


If

by Lunasong365, sous_le_saule



Series: Luna's GO Poetry [10]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, M/M, Poetry, Pre-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasong365/pseuds/Lunasong365, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sous_le_saule/pseuds/sous_le_saule
Summary: Sometimes 'if' can mean the possibility of 'everything.'





	

**Author's Note:**

> This poem is a true collaboration between two authors who love Good Omens and would like to remind the reader that our source material itself is "à 4 mains" (four-handed writing). It began life as a short fic and evolved into a poem. We hope you enjoy!

I do not love you.  
  
Stop bewitching me with your angelic smile.  
Stop touching me ever so innocently when you think I don’t notice.  
Stop surrounding me with all that sincere love you assume I’m unable to perceive.  
It doesn’t affect me. You know what I am.  
  
What kind of demon would I be if I were capable of love?  
  
And if you imagine you’ve witnessed evidence to the contrary, you’re forgetting that deception is my business.  
Don’t be so naive.  
  
Do you think it matters to me that you’re the only other being who understands what it’s like to live on this planet, among _them_ , for 6000 years?  
Do you think the reason I sigh every time you ask me to drive you somewhere is because it drives me crazy in ways I don’t understand?  
Do you think I give a damn about our five-star dinners and back-room benders, just because they’re the only time I don’t feel alone?  
C’mon, you know me better than that.  
  
Deep down inside, you know you’re deluding yourself.  
  
Because if I loved you, it would mean that I need you. And I don’t need anyone.  
If I loved you, I might start counting the days until I see you again. I am immortal. I have no reason to count days.  
If I loved you, the thought of being with you would take my breath away. Why would that concern me?  
If I loved you, I would care so much about you that I would fight Heaven and Hell themselves to be at your side.  
You can’t reasonably expect such a feat from the callous, shriveled, corrupt object that serves as my heart.  
  
And I don’t need another reason to be afraid.  
  
I would be afraid that I’d corrupt your pure and holy essence. Or fear that someone Above could believe it possible. It hurts, the Fall. It’s fucking evil, and it _never_ ends. I’m glad you never asked. I don’t want you to know. If I loved you, I couldn’t bear that you’d risk the same fate.  
  
Even worse than being afraid are my unrealistic hopes and expectations.  
Of being worthy of your gaze that embraces and absolves me.  
Of ever being able to make you happy.  
Of even being _capable_ of loving you to the extent that you deserve.  
Of ever being _good_ enough for you.  
I may be an optimist, but it’s best not to harbour such illusions.  
  
We both know Who I’ve already disappointed. Do you really believe I wouldn’t do the same to you?  
  
No, angel.  
  
Definitely. Absolutely. Positively.  
  
No.  
  
I’m not in love with you.


End file.
